


The Joys of Parenthood

by MiladyDeWinter (Techno_Queen)



Series: Modir Ventrar [1]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Constructive Criticism Welcome, M/M, Rewrite of "Mothering Instincts", So basically everyone's either stupid or wants to kill someone else or both, and tired, because Jack is stupid and likes to keep secrets, because Manny is stupid, but everybody wants to kill each other so things get kinda screwed up, except Aster, he's just confused, so anyway Bunny and Jack are going to have kits
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2019-03-04 05:03:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13357074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Techno_Queen/pseuds/MiladyDeWinter
Summary: [DISCONTINUED](Rewrite of "Mothering Instincts")Jack is a winter spirit. He's married to E. Aster Bunnymund, will soon be the proud 'mother' of three Pooka kits, and is absolutely freaking out because winter spirits turn into overprotective, violent psychopaths when they have kids and Bunny mustabsolutely not know, ever. He's also recovering from the trauma from a past abusive relationship, and is being stalked by his crazy ex who wants to kill him.Tooth is a Sister of Flight. She thinks Jack is being silly and says he should tell Bunny what's going on. Jack disagrees.Pitch is a human who's corrupted by Fearlings. He wants to kill Jack for various reasons, one of them being that Jack betrayed him, supposedly.Onyx is a Nightmare gone rogue, and now exists mainly to protect Jack from her crazy master.Aster is a Pooka. He's hopelessly confused and has no idea what to think about anything anymore, especially the Nightmare snoozing in his Warren or the winter spirit growling and standing guard over the kits. He just. Can't. Deal. Leave him alone, he'll get over it eventually.Meanwhile, everyone else is just confused and hoping that nobody dies.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Attention: This is a rewrite/revamp of "Mothering Instincts", because I screwed up the original and I wanted to fix it. So here's to hoping I don't screw up this story as well.
> 
> Hope you like.

As far as Jack was concerned, it wasn’t _falling_ in love that was the problem, nor was _being_ in love. As long as he could hide it, as long as he loved from a distance, as long as he pined for the other person while being fully aware that there was no chance of his feelings being requited, then he was fine. Feelings could be hidden indefinitely, after all, and Jack was very, very good at hiding his feelings.

No, being in love was easy. The _true_ problems began to arise when that love was _returned_. Suddenly, with the threat of a looming mutual relationship, all the joy and fun that came with being in love were sucked away as if by a vacuum cleaner, and Jack was left with only lingering feelings of anxiety, depression, and “oh Moon why did I do this to myself am I completely _insane?_ ”

Mark my words, it wasn’t that Jack was somehow unable to _commit_ to a relationship. He was loyal, loving, and protective by nature, and despite his reputation of being an irresponsible brat, he could in fact be surprisingly mature and trustworthy whenever his significant other was involved. He believed that all healthy relationships should be constructed on the foundations of honesty, trust, respect, and love. In his mind, the moment someone lied to or somehow betrayed their loved one, the two ceased to have a ‘true’ relationship.

...Perhaps a slightly naive and simplified view of things, but Jack was to be excused. After all, he was no expert in such matters. Aye, and this very innocence, this very ignorance, lead us to the crux of the problem: 

Jack had no clue how to handle a relationship.

He’d been in one before (well, two, if you counted General Winter, but that was less “mutually consenting relationship” and more “General Winter being creepy and perving on Jack”, which, no, that was _not_ a relationship), but it...hadn't ended well.

Or begun well. In fact, _nothing_ about that particular ‘romance’ (if it could be called such) had been good. His ex had been a monster, a master of emotional manipulation and torture, and Jack had been the one to suffer for it for over two centuries.

It was the ‘two centuries’ part that bothered him, actually. Looking back, there had been hundreds of red flags. Intense research, along with intermittent discussions with some of his early believers (Sophie herself was a survivor of relationship abuse, and while Jack felt like strangling the twit that had done that to her, still he admired her strength and determination), served to open his eyes to the fact that many things about his previous relationship had been distinctly _not okay._

And now, he felt like an idiot for not noticing sooner.

There had been so many clues, so many indications that something had been horribly, horribly wrong; yet it had taken the death of his own daughter to realize it, and even afterwards he’d never fully grasped it until now. He’d been blind, foolishly blind, accepting blame and pain far too willingly in exchange for companionship.

He should have recognized the symptoms. Then perhaps his daughter wouldn’t be dead, then perhaps he wouldn’t be utterly terrified at the mere thought of being in love. If he’d been a little smarter, a little more cynical, a little less desperate for some sort of recognition of his existence, then maybe he wouldn’t be broken.

His first believers, upon hearing his doubts, were quick to try and knock sense into him, Sophie herself stating that Jack was not at fault, that abusers were generally excellent manipulators, that he had been young and lonely and that his ex had been an orifice and _Jack you were not to blame, stop thinking that right now or I’ll create a slideshow explaining how it wasn’t your fault and I’ll make you read it, do you understand?_

Given that slideshows had a tendency to be extremely long and boring, Jack had gladly taken the blond woman’s advice, and had felt somewhat better as a result. Yet still, there was a little trace of self-doubt that nagged at the back of his mind: would he notice, would he be able to break free if he somehow entered another bad relationship?

Somehow, he doubted it. He’d been naive enough to not perceive that something was wrong for the entirely of his two-century-long love affair, who said he’d notice a second time?

...Especially if his future partner was supposed to be _Bunny?_

Certainly, the lagomorph seemed kind, and loyal, and understanding, and Jack had been flabbergasted when it turned out that Bunny had been in love with him for about the same amount of time _he’d_ been in love with _Bunny_. The feelings of devotion were mutual, boundaries had been set, and the two had agreed to respect and love each other. By all rights, it should have been a seamless transition from friends to lovers. 

On the other hand, Bunny was...well, Bunny. Quick of temper and rough of personality, the Pooka was hotheaded by nature, a flawless emotional manipulator, and an awkward individual with a tendency to lash out at others for things that were not their fault. It would be all too easy for the occasional loss of temper and a couple instances of misplaced blame to expand into full-on abuse, and Jack didn’t trust himself to determine when and if the transition would occur.

Moreover, even if Jack did somehow manage to figure out that he was trapped, he still wouldn’t be able to break free, due to the eggs. Pooka eggs, eggs that would one day hatch into kits.

Kits that Jack and Bunny would technically be the _parents_ of, and oh, wasn’t _that_ an interesting story.

It was all the Man in the Moon’s fault, really. Three days after Bunny had asked to court him, three days after he’d gleefully accepted, three days after his supposedly unrequited affection had been returned ten-fold, the glorified rock had decided that _now is the perfect time for me to reveal that I rescued three eggs from the horrors of the Pooka massacre, and to entrust them to Bunnymund and Jack’s care, because of course an emotionally scarred alien rabbit who had zero experience dealing with kids and a winter spirit who became a homicidal maniac every time he came into parenthood were both the perfect choices for raising three alien Pooka kits!_

Jack might have been _just_ a bit bitter. Maybe. Then again, it was mostly MiM’s fault for being a moron. After hundreds of thousands of years of letting Bunny think his entire race had died off, suddenly one morning Manny had the _gall_ to say ‘oh, I forgot to mention that some Pookas did survive and have been staying on the moon in stasis for the past several millennia, would you like to have them now?’

It was enough to make Jack want to punch Manny, really, it was. Three hundred years of solitude, he could forgive, but stupidity and callousness of this level? This wasn’t just MiM being a jerk, this was MiM being an _ultra_ jerk.

Still, he was glad to say that, at first, he and Aster had done not too badly. I mean, yes, Bunny did have a nervous breakdown or two, and Jack had occasionally felt a powerful urge to strangle MiM (never mind that the moon was almost two hundred forty thousand miles away from the Earth, Jack would find a way, so help him), but with the help of the three other Guardians, the two had adjusted quite well to the addition of three eggs to their lives. 

At least, until Jack’s oh-so-charming, always-showed-up-when-you-least-wanted-him ex had entered the picture. It turned out that deranged exes were often much like that annoying piece of tape that got stuck to your finger and never left you no matter how many times you tried to pull or shake it off, and Jack’s ex was no exception. Enraged, jealous, and bitter, Sir Bonkers de Bonkerville had promptly attacked Bunny’s Warren, his sole aim to destroy the eggs and hopefully take Jack down with them. 

He’d nearly succeeded, too. Jack had never thought that one’s heart could literally skip a beat, but at the sight of shattered pieces of shell and embryo on the ground, his own cardiac organ had done just that. Stunned, in shock, the only coherent thought he could muster at the time was “it should have been me.”

Better an easily replaceable winter spirit than the last survivors of a dying species. Better one life instead of three. Better his own death than the shattering of Bunny’s heart and hope.

Without hesitation, ready to do what was necessary, Jack had prepared to give his life force to the dying Pooka kits. It was a last-ditch resort, a frantic effort, but one that would save the eggs, at the cost of Jack’s own life. 

Yet despite this, Bunny had stopped him and offered to share the burden.

To give one’s life force was an act of extreme desperation, only to be done when there was no other recourse available. No spirit can survive without their life-force, and to donate it was to doom oneself in exchange for giving another a second chance at life. Typically, only lovers and extremely close friends would give it away, and even then only when their loved one was on Death’s door.

When two spirits contributed their life-force, however...that was another matter entirely. Their life-forces would then blend, forming a powerful magic that could sustain several lives without the cost of killing the donors. By sharing the responsibility, Jack and Bunny would be able to save both the kits and themselves.

This came at a cost, however. Firstly, the two donors would be irrevocably bound, in a tie that was akin to marriage. To break this bond would be well-nigh impossible for as long as both donors were alive. Secondly, both donors would also pass down a great deal of genetics to the recipient, with the end result that, genetically-speaking, the recipient would become the child of the two donors.

Bunny and Jack had only been courting for eleven days, and already the two were facing marriage and parenthood. It was too quick, too rushed, especially for the recovering winter spirit who still bore deep and painful scars. They had no choice, however, and with a mental prayer Jack had accepted to wed E. Aster Bunnymund.

Now he was trapped, with a husband he didn’t trust, three kits that would soon hatch, a miscellany of horrible memories, and a crazy ex who presumably still wanted his guts for garters.

Life sucked.

~=~

“Jack?”

He looked up hastily, Tooth’s voice snapping him out of his reverie. “Yes?”

She seemed concerned, amethyst eyes filled with worry. “You...wanted to talk to me about something?”

Ah, yes, he did. Jack glanced around the Tooth Palace, the large, spacious structure filled with fairies that were flitting around like bees as some gathered coins from the dispensers while others put teeth in their respective canisters. He took a sip of his tea as he searched for the proper words, deliberately looking away from the Guardian of Memories.

He did want to speak with her, it was true, but now that he had a chance to he couldn’t seem to figure out what to say. The concerns that had been buzzing through his head for the past several days seemed somewhat silly, now that he was far away from the Pooka who caused them.

Still, he had to talk with someone, and it might as well be Tooth. For all that she might appear a flighty individual, he knew that he could trust her with secrets, and what he wanted to say definitely counted as a secret.

Thus resolved, he braced himself, pale fingers tightening reflexively around the fragile china teacup as frost began to creep over the flowery designs on the cup’s surface. As if reading his movements, the feathery Guardian leaned towards him, her feathered arms crossed and resting on the delicate porcelain tabletop, making it clear that she was giving him her full (if somewhat scatter-brained) attention.

...Although Jack privately suspected that she _might_ have been staring at his teeth a little as well. Then again, Tooth was also crazy, so that was probably to be expected.

...Come to think of it, all the Guardians were likely crazy, himself included. Oh joy, Jack was surrounded by nutcases. Nutcases who had _swords_. If he hadn’t been sure before that one of the Guardians would eventually kill him by accident, he certainly was now. Just imagine his epitaph: _Jack Frost, mistakenly killed by those he held dear--_

“You’re doing it again.”

He blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“That thing where you’re trying not to think of something, so instead you flood your mind with a miscellany of various random thoughts so you can distract yourself from the real issue. You’re doing it again.”

He stared at her as if she’d suddenly grown three extra heads. “I...what?”

Her purple eyes held a trace of sadness in them, even as she smiled. “You’re probably not aware of it anymore, but you have a tendency to go off on unrelated tangents when you’re trying to avoid thinking about something bad. Your mind is continuously polluted with various unrelated lines of thought that you can use to ignore the problem.”

Huh. It had been so long since he’d started doing that, but now that she mentioned it...”How do you know?”

She raised her right hand and flexed her small fingers. “Touch telepathy. It’s an involuntary side effect of my powers. I’ve only touched you a few times over the past decade, but during each and every one of them your mind was filled with a bewildering collection of thoughts and plans, some confusing, others outright contradictory. Your mind, in short, is a mess.”

Okay then. That was _totally_ not a mix of creepy and mildly intrusive. Nope, not at all. “...I see. I’m...sorry?”

“Don’t mention it. I can understand how you developed this habit,” she took a sip of her tea. “I’m going to have to ask you to try and stop for a little while, though, and tell me what the problem is. Unless you changed your mind?”

“No,” he said almost instantly. “I want to talk to you about this. It’s important, and it’s been bothering me.”

She nodded, inviting him to go on, her expression attentive. He took a deep breath, and stared down at his cup, still half-full of tea.

“...It’s about Bunny. I’m...not sure that I can handle being, well, _married_ to him.”

Silence.

“I...can’t say that I wasn’t expecting that.”

He looked up sharply. “What?”

She looked vaguely guilty. “It’s another side effect of my powers. If someone is near me, and they happen to remember something or to summon a memory, I can ‘see’ what it is they’re remembering. It’s horribly invasive of their privacy and very overwhelming for me, but I can’t suppress it.”

That...made sense. Jack numbly sipped his tea and wondered why he wasn’t freaking out yet. “Then I guess you know what it is I’m worried about.”

“Bits and pieces, yes, but not enough to form a complete picture. I know that you have been in an abusive relationship before, so possibly you are worried that Bunny may hurt you in the same way. I’m not sure how you reached this conclusion, though.”

_'How could you accuse me of such a thing, I would never hurt you!'_

“I didn’t mean that!” cried Tooth, the non-sequitur briefly confusing Jack, before he remembered that she too could hear the echoing memory of his ex-boyfriend’s voice in his head. “I would believe you if you told me that Bunny hurt you, Jack. But what I’ve noticed is that most of the time, you’re optimistic and eager to see the best in everyone. Why are you making an exception in Bunny’s case?”

_'He needs to go.'_

_'I think we dodged a bullet here, mate.'_

_'I’m the Easter Bunny. People believe in me.'_

But the most important memory of all, the one that would forever brand itself in Jack’s mind…

_'We should never have trusted you!'_

...Was the fist, and the blow that never fell. The blow that had been meant for him, its purpose to bruise and bleed and hurt, to cause him pain and give him no chance to defend himself. As usual, he was to blame for the other’s rage and suffering, and as usual, he was meant to pay the price.

Just like he had done for his ex.

_“...Oh.”_

He looked up, dejected, and watched numbly as horrified comprehension dawned over Tooth’s face.

While it was true that Bunny’s blow had never landed, the fear still remained. Fear that he would make a mistake, fear that he would be hurt, fear that Bunny would damage him over and over again without him even realizing it. 

Fear that he would never be able to leave. 

Her hands shaking, Tooth hastily poured herself some more tea, accidentally spilling some on the tabletop in the process. Her breathing was suspiciously rough, her eyes shining with unshed tears of sorrow and regret. 

When she finally composed herself, Jack spoke, his voice hesitant. “Is it...normal for me to feel this way? I mean, I _know_ I should be getting over that incident, it’s been over a _decade_ for MiM’s sake, but I still...”

“Fear him?”

“...Yeah.”

A sigh. “Jack. Considering what you’ve been though and how Bunny, how we all acted then, I think your fear is _completely_ normal and understandable. In fact, I’m surprised you still want to be around us. Our behaviour was inexcusable and we cannot apologize enough.”

Jack’s voice was firm. “Don’t worry about it. You’ve already apologized, and I’ve already forgiven you.”

“That you have, but you haven’t forgotten, and I doubt you ever will. And that’s what’s contributing to your misgivings.”

He fiddled with the tea cup as he contemplated Tooth’s words. “Then what am I supposed to do? Pretend that everything's all right? Pretend that I’m not terrified of him?”

“What about talking to him?”

Silence.

“...You haven’t talked to him, have you.”

A pause, followed by a chilled huff of irritation, cold thin fingers tapping sharply against the side of the tea cup. “No.”

“Why not?”

His reply was short and clipped. “I don’t want to.”

“Jack, I’m sorry to say this, but I’m afraid you don’t have much of a choice. You and Bunny are married now, whether you like it or not, and you’ll need to start learning how to communicate with him eventually. It’s better to clear the air first, so you can prevent misunderstandings before they happen.”

“I _know_ that. I just...I don’t want to talk to him right now.”

“That is understandable. Unfortunately, as I have said before, you don’t really have much of a choice.”

“...I know. I just...”

“Just what?”

“...I don’t want him to get _upset._ ”

And there it was, the flash of fear in his pale blue eyes, the result of years of pain and abuse. It was the kind of fear that could fade, that could soften around the edges, that could be restrained little by little and shoved deep into the farthest recesses of the mind, but that could never leave, that would haunt the sufferer for the remainder of their natural life.

The fear of screwing up, whether accidentally or not, whether through words or actions, and _paying for it._ The fear that made you watch your every move. The fear that caused your heart to leap in your throat and your mouth to utter incessant apologies whenever you did or said something that might have inconvenienced or angered someone else. 

Tooth sighed and gently folded her hands in her lap. “Jack. I know that Bunny might seem somewhat...intimidating. And I know that he can be callous, hurtful, and downright unpleasant when he wants to be, and that you two haven’t always had the best relationship.

“But you have to consider one important thing that has changed, and that is your regard for each other. Yes, you still fight, and yes, you are still rivals in some ways, but as of this moment in time, you two are in love. And I don’t mean the toxic kind. I mean the kind that is healthy, loving, and supportive, the kind where each partner respects and loves the other. And I strongly believe that if you were to give Bunny a chance, if you were to entrust him with this injured, scarred part of you, then Bunny would prove himself that he is, without doubt, worthy of your trust and love.”

She took a sip of tea. “And if he doesn’t, then I promise to formally introduce him to my collection of ancient dentistry equipment, centuries-long friendship be damned.”

That startled a laugh out of Jack, and Tooth smiled around the rim of her tea cup, before placing the cup on the table. Correctly interpreting the motion as a sign of the conversation being terminated, Jack rose from his seat, Tooth copying his movement. He smiled gratefully at the fairy as he grabbed his staff from where it had been leaning against the side of the chair. “Thanks for your help, Tooth.”

Tooth smiled. “You’re welcome, Jack. Trust me, Bunny will understand.” 

“Hopefully. But if I show up on your front door in individually sealed packages, then you’ll know who to blame.”

“I have a feeling it won’t come to that,” eager to reassure Jack further, Tooth continued. “But if by some strange twist of fate, things don’t go so well...You do know you can leave him at any time, right? The marriage bond doesn’t force you to interact with him. You won’t be able to date anyone else unless the bond is somehow broken, but you don’t _have_ to be around him.”

Somehow, Jack’s expression became more brittle, more closed-off, even as he smiled. “I’ll bear that in mind, Tooth.”

“Good. Don’t worry, Jack, I’m sure things will turn out fine.”

In a thoughtless gesture of reassurance, Tooth reached out a hand and rested it on his shoulder…

And froze. One, two, three seconds of silence, as she gaped, staring off into the middle distance, Jack’s thoughts flooding her mind. It took her a moment to regain her senses, but when she did, her shrill and suddenly very loud voice echoed throughout Punjam Hy Loo.

“...What do you mean, _you can’t leave him!?”_


	2. Chapter 2

_“He can’t leave me!”_

The dark horses whinnied anxiously as their master began to pace frantically around the room, his long black robes swishing furiously around his ankles. Stuck in the throes of his temper tantrum, the Nightmare King gesticulated furiously as he ranted, nightmare sand swirling around him like a cloud of angry hornets. “It’s ridiculous, is what it is! Jack Frost is mine and mine alone, and I refuse to let that mangy rabbit steal him away from me! Do you understand me? _I refuse!_ ”

One of the braver mares neighed a protest, and Pitch Black gave her a glare that could have melted chilled lead. “I _know_ that, you fool, but he still has no right to leave me. He’s _mine_ , what is it about this that you can’t understand?” 

She nickered in reply, and he scoffed. “Free will indeed! All these _modernized_ folk, with their saccharine ideals of ‘respect’ and ‘freedom’ and ‘equality’! It’s enough to make one _puke._ ”

 _Jack Frost is not your property,_ she neighed quietly, trying to keep her cool. _The rules of both the spirit and the human world state--_

The Boogeyman began pacing again, hands clasped tightly behind his back. “Damn the rules! _I_ was the one who broke him, _I_ made him mine. He belongs to _me_ now. I’ve earned him fair and square, and there is nothing, _absolutely nothing_ , that the stupid rabbit can do to change that.”

_But--_

“No buts!” snapped Pitch as he flailed dramatically. “They _cannot_ take him away from me! They’ve stolen what’s mine, and I will get him back, so help me, even if I must _kill him_ to do it!”

Her ears folded back in irritation, a brief huff of a snort making itself heard as she resigned herself to simply watching Pitch as he stormed around the cave. Privately, she held the opinion that her master was far too dramatic and unbalanced for his own good, but alas, she could only watch as he dug himself into his own grave. Such was life, unfortunately.

Still, while it seemed unlikely that her master would succeed, perhaps it would be advisable that she attempted to warn Jack Frost. The winter spirit was a good lad, if slightly naive, and he deserved to have some sort of forewarning of her master’s plans. He was her closest friend, after all, and the only one to have bothered giving her a Name.

The Name...having a Name changed everything. While her sisters were merely mindless pawns, to be created and destroyed at will, Onyx had a mind and will of her own. Having a Name gave her a strength she had never known she lacked, the strength of being an individual with her own tastes, opinions, and thoughts. Jack Frost, however inadvertently, had given her both the best and the worst gift known to man: that of _freedom._

At times, Onyx wondered if she would have been better off without her Name. Individuality came at a price of a conscience, and her conscience had been annoyingly restless of late (it turned out that terrorizing children had a tendency to make you feel rather guilty, who knew?). On top of that, the emotions that she was suddenly able to feel were a horribly complicated mess. Sadness, guilt, happiness, horror, a multitude of other emotions that Onyx hadn’t even _dreamed_ one could feel, they all worked together to confuse her. One moment she would be calm, happy even; the next she would be plunged into the depths of abject despair. One instant her anger was a burning coal in her chest; the next guilt ate at her heart. It was enough to drive a respectable Nightmare _insane._

Despite all this, however, she had to thank Jack. Before, her life had been only in shades of gray and black; now, it was alight with colour and life, and it was all thanks to the frightened winter spirit who, in spite of his own pain, had found it within himself to give her the best gift she’d ever received.

She had a lot to thank Jack for. The least she could do was warn him.

Thus resolved, Onyx faded unnoticed into the shadows, her master’s yells still echoing behind her.

~=~

“Tooth--”

“No.”

“Tooth, stop--”

“ _No,_ Jack,” said Tooth through gritted teeth as she clung onto Jack’s sleeve in an attempt to keep him from flying away. “You are staying here and we are _talking about this._ ”

Jack tried to pull his arm away, frowning when Tooth didn’t yield an inch. “C’mon, Tooth, you’re freaking out over nothing. It’s normal, you shouldn’t worry about it.”

“It shouldn’t _be_ normal, Jack! You should have the _right_ to leave Bunny--”

“But I don’t, and I’m fine with that. I can deal with it.”

“ _Deal with it--_ ” Tooth looked horrified. “Jack, you shouldn’t _have_ to deal with it. Nor should Bunny, in fact. Everyone should have the right to leave their romantic partner at any time. You shouldn’t have to be tied to Bunny for the rest of your life!”

Jack fruitlessly tugged against the warrior queen’s deceptively powerful grip. “Well, technically, I’m not tied to Bunny, I’m tied to the kits--”

“ _That’s not the point!_ ” Tooth practically exploded, causing Jack to wince. Noticing the young man’s discomfort, the fairy lowered her voice, even as she kept her tone firm. “Jack. Whether or not you’re fine with this is not the point. The point is, you should have the right to leave Bunny, and Bunny should have the right to leave you. And, though I’m not clear on the details of the matter, it’s clear that somehow, something is obstructing this right, and it should be fixed.”

Jack gritted his teeth, the first hints of irritation sneaking into his countenance. “Okay, let’s get two things clear. First of all, it _can’t_ be ‘fixed’, so you can stop trying as of now.”

Tooth opened her mouth to speak, but Jack barrelled on. “And second of all, _it can’t be ‘fixed’, so you can stop trying as of now.”_

“Just because I can doesn’t mean I will,” retorted Tooth stubbornly. “Few things are irreversible, Jack.”

“This one is.”

“How do you know?”

“Because, Tooth, I tried. Trust me, it’s not reversible. It’s not _meant_ to be reversible.”

Something about Jack’s tone made Tooth stop in her tracks. After carefully examining Jack’s facial expression, and finding it filled with nothing but the purest sincerity, the Queen of the Tooth Fairy Armies slowly nodded. “Okay. I believe you. I don’t like it, but I’ll believe it.”

“Thank you for your generosity,” the young man muttered sarcastically. 

Tooth rolled her eyes before opting to ignore him. “I still want to know why, though. Why are you tied to the kits, and why can’t you leave them?”

“...It’s a long story.”

“I have time. My fairies can manage without me for the next few hours. Baby Tooth is proving to be a remarkably capable stand-in for me.”

Jack couldn’t repress a small smile at this, proud as he was of Baby Tooth’s proficiency, but he soon schooled his expression into one of solemnity as he remembered the situation at hand. He really did not want to discuss his...problem, at this time, having already indulged in far too much of the ‘serious talk’. His center was itching for him to go out and have some fun, whether it be through snowdays or pranks or what have you, but he knew Tooth well enough to know that the fairy wouldn’t let him leave until she had the information she wanted.

Briefly, he toyed with the idea of simply freezing her to the spot and running, but soon dismissed the idea. Tooth could be downright scary when mad, and the last thing he wanted was to incur her wrath.

“Oh, come on, I’m not _that_ scary.”

He blinked, startled, before remembering that Tooth was still holding on to his arm and could, in fact, read his every thought. “Okay. One: that touch-telepathy thing is slightly creepy, and two: yes, you totally are. Don’t try to deny it.”

She grinned, a trace amount of fierce ferality in her eyes. For all that Tooth may claim to be completely civilized, the fact of the matter was that she was still essentially part-bird. The Sisters of Flight were a proud and fiery race, with a predilection for being somewhat violent and untamed, and Tooth had inherited a great deal of these qualities from her mother. “I choose to perceive that comment as a compliment.”

“If you insist.”

“I do. But returning to the point.”

“...Right. It is, as I have said, a long story.”

Tooth cocked her head to one side in much the same way that a curious robin would. “I’m all ears.”

Jack sighed, biting his lip as he debated where to begin. Certain that he wouldn’t leave, Tooth released him, and Jack took advantage of this to plant the end of his staff on the ground and hop atop it, crouching on the crook like a sparrow on a branch. “Okay, so...you’re familiar with Arthurian legend, yes?”

Tooth frowned in confusion as she took to the air, hovering so she was eye level with Jack. “Yes?”

“Right. Well, as you know, these stories are very old. Like, super old. And, over the years, they’ve been edited and retold and rewritten so many times that the modern stories are now very different from what actually happened.”

“So?”

“So. Picture this. It’s the Middle Ages, where everyone believes in witches and sorcerers and spirits and dragons and all manner of supernatural beings. Practically everyone can see and interact with spirits, to the point where some spirits have decided to settle down with a nice human and start a family of their own. Having a spirit as your spouse is not at all uncommon, so not only are spirits interacting freely with humans, but they’re also having children with them, so now there are plenty of so-called ‘half-breed’ kids wandering around. You with me?”

“Yes?”

“Okay. These ‘half-breeds’ aren’t completely human, but they’re not spirits either. They’re kind of halfway between the two: mortal, but with magical powers. These are the witches, sorcerers, wizards, warlocks, you name them. All such magic-manipulating people are half-breeds.”

“And?”

“And. Well, two things happen. First of all: remember how Arthur Pendragon’s father, Uther, had a wife?”

“Yes, I believe her name was Igraine.”

“That’s the one. Well, she had a husband before Uther. A winter spirit by the name of Jokul Frosti. The two had a daughter together, Morgana le Fay.”

“You mean Arthur’s malevolent half-sister?”

“ _Malevolent--_ ” Jack stopped himself before he gave in to the urge to yell, and rubbed his temples. “Okay. We’ll address that later. For now, though, let’s focus on someone else, namely Merlin. Merlin was also a half-breed, the son of a fire spirit and a peasant woman. He was born a whiles before Morgana and Arthur were.”

“Go on.”

“So, anyway. So, Arthur was the prince, next in line to the throne. And practically everybody wanted to kill him, because all the neighboring kingdoms wanted a piece of Britain. Merlin’s mother was a spy for one of these kingdoms, and she trained her child to kill Arthur, because she had some elaborate plan whereby she wanted to make Merlin Arthur’s bodyguard so he could kill Arthur.”

“I thought Merlin was supposed to protect Arthur?”

“As I said, the stories are very different from reality. So, Merlin’s mom pulls some strings and gets her son into the castle. Merlin tries to kill Arthur. Morgana freaks out and saves her half-brother, but not before nearly killing Merlin with a powerful blast of magic. Merlin survives, but the blast of magic is enough to corrupt his sanity. He goes bonkers, convinces himself that all winter spirits are evil beings and should be stamped out, and goes out and starts killing all the winter spirits.

“In those days, the winter spirits were very disorganized. They had no army, no defense, no training. It was ridiculously easy for Merlin to track them down and kill them. He eliminated nearly two thousand, out of the twenty-five hundred that were scattered around the world.”

Tooth’s eyes were wide as saucers. “But—but how--”

“How are there any left? Simple. After many years of trying to kill him, Morgana eventually managed to trick Merlin and put him into perpetual sleep.”

“But not before he massacred thousands of winter spirits, I take it.”

Jack pursed his lips. “Unfortunately, no. It didn’t help that the fire spirits were enraged at what Morgana had done, and promptly waged war against the survivors. In the end, only a few dozen were left.”

“That’s...terrible.”

“I know. So, after this incident, nobody wanted to be anywhere near winter spirits. The humans saw Merlin as a hero and Morgana and her ilk as criminals, the fire spirits were pissed and didn’t want anything to do with winter spirits, and the other spirits were scared of incurring the wrath of the fire spirits and didn’t dare mingle with them.

“Since the winter spirit population was so dangerously low, and since nobody wanted to be associated with them, the winter spirits were desperate. They were still pathetic at fighting, so what few kids they had were soon exterminated by the fire spirits, and nobody wanted to help them learn how to defend themselves or their children.

“So, Morgana decided to do what she did best: she casted a spell. A spell that would activate whenever a winter spirit had a child, whereby the parent would be linked to the child for the remainder of their natural lives, while also being endowed with extremely strong urges to protect the offspring by any means available. It’s surprisingly effective.”

“...That makes sense. So, when the kits are born, you’ll be linked to them?”

“I already am, but the bond will get stronger when they hatch. Once they’re out of the shell, I won’t be able to voluntarily stay away from them for longer than a few hours at a time.”

“What happens if you do?”

He shrugged. “It hurts. Like, a lot. Eventually, if I wait too long, I’ll either fall into a coma or die.”

She bit her lip. “...Okay. Well, according to legend Morgana was a very powerful sorceress, so I’m not sure we’ll be able to remove the spell...North definitely won’t be any help, he knows a bit of magic but something like this is beyond him--”

“No. You can’t tell him.”

Tooth blinked at the sudden urgency in Jack’s voice. “What? Jack, we have to tell them--”

“No, you can’t. Especially not Bunny. Please, Tooth.”

Tooth frowned. “I don’t know--”

“Please.”

“...But why?”

“I have my reasons.”

Tooth bit her lip, her heart breaking at the distraught look on Jack’s face, even as her conscience insisted that Bunny should know what was going on. “Jack, I don’t know about this. You’ll have to tell him eventually.”

“I know. Just...not right now. I’ll tell him when I’m ready, I swear.”

Tooth frowned, considering, before she slowly swung her head up and down in a nod. “Okay. I won’t tell him yet.”

Jack smiled gratefully, his teeth shining a dazzling white. “Thank you.”

She smiled back, though her skin itched awkwardly with the wrongness of the situation. She trusted Jack to know what he was doing, however, so with a heavy heart she agreed to his request.

Suddenly Tooth stiffened, her eyes glazed over as she stared off at a point some several hundred miles away.

“Tooth? What’s wrong?”

From the depths of the palace, he thought he could hear the sound of some sort of disturbance. Tooth shuddered before snapping out of her reverie. “There’s something wrong. An intruder. I’ll be right back, Jack, please stay around in case I need your help.”

“Will do.”

With a nod, Tooth quickly flitted away, vanishing easily into the bowels of the palace and leaving Jack alone on the ledge.

~=~

Onyx was...just a little irritated. For all that she liked Jack Frost, there were times when she felt a powerful urge to clonk him over the head with a heavy, blunt object. 

Now was one of these times.

She’d had an absolutely _harrowing_ morning. First, she’d tried looking for Jack in the Warren, thinking that to be the most likely place where Jack could be, which, all things considered, it was. Well, Jack hadn’t been there, but there had been a multitude of giant stone golems accompanied by a crazed rabbit who was armed with two deceptively painful pieces of wood, and none of them had been happy to see her. She’d nearly been killed.

(...Could she even be killed? Or would she just reform from the nightmare sand scattered about? Only Rhiannon knew.)

Then, she’d looked in the next best place: the Workshop. The reception there was much the same as at the Warren, except the golems were replaced by furry and smelly yetis, and the demented bunny rabbit was exchanged for an equally demented old man with a long beard and two very sharp swords. Again, no one had been glad to see her. 

(Which made her wonder. Weren’t the Guardians supposed to be, well...friendly? How did such panicky and paranoid individuals get jobs in protecting children?)

(...Come to think of it, how did _Jack_ land such a job? She knew the basics of the story, of course, having literally _been there_ , but she had no idea why the Man in the Moon thought making him a Guardian was a good idea. Jack was a good kid, but he was unfortunately seriously deranged.)

Now, she was visiting the Tooth Palace, and was running the very serious risk of losing her eyeballs to the multitude of psychotic hummingbirds that were pecking at her face whilst squeaking madly. Which, no. Onyx _liked_ her eyeballs. They were very nice, a glowing sort of yellow that contrasted well with the black that made up the rest of her. She wanted to keep them, thank you ever so much.

Unfortunately, a happy ending for her optical organs seemed unlikely, since the hummingbirds were becoming more and more violent and _holy shit a giant bird woman was trying to cut off her head._

This morning just kept getting progressively worse and worse.

Onyx dodged the sword-wielding bird-woman that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. With a soundless sigh, the Nightmare vanished into one of the shadows, reappearing somewhere that was higher up, but thankfully less populated with hysterical bird creatures. Those beaks were _sharp._

Taking a long sniff in much the same way that a bloodhound would, Onyx began to follow the scent of snow, mint, vanilla, and pine that gently perfumed the air. _Finally._ At least there would soon be an end to people trying to kill her. She had enough of that at home, for Epona’s sake.

At last, the Nightmare alighted on a wide ledge that spanned one of the towers. A few more steps and she was approaching Jack, who was standing with his back to her, staff held tightly in his hand. With a whinny, she leapt towards him.

At that point, several things happened at once. 

Jack turned around, staff held in a defensive position, blue energy crackling around him. At the same time, Onyx saw something out of the corner of her eyes, and turned around just in time to see the leader of the neurotic birds zooming towards her, swords drawn. 

Snarling, Onyx shied away from the blades, before ducking away and beelining for Jack again. Returning the snarl, Miss Unstable Maniac blocked Onyx’s path and swung her sword at the Nightmare’s neck. 

Only for the blade to be stopped by a blast of winter magic.

Blue lightning dancing up and down the blade, the sword was knocked out of Tooth’s hand and thrown across the ledge, skittering on the ground before falling off the edge. With a shout, the feathery lunatic darted after her fallen weapon, but was stopped by the Nightmare who jumped in front of her, shoving her to the ground. Furious and at the end of her patience, Onyx snapped her teeth in front of the bird-woman’s throat, mere inches away from the jugular, and watched in bitter pleasure as purple eyes widened in fear.

“That’s _enough,_ you two!”

The chilling blast of ice at Onyx’s hooves was perhaps to be expected, but nevertheless it was enough to make her recoil from the cold, frost swallowing her hooves and lower forelegs. With a shrill sound, the Nightmare turned to Jack, a whine filling the air. 

“Please step away from the fairy, Onyx.”

Shaking in rage, the Nightmare nevertheless complied, and was awarded with the dubious honour of seeing crazy-lady’s eyes widen in shock. “ _...How…?_ ”

Jack frowned weakly. “...It’s complicated.”

“Explain.”

Jack gulped. “...Um...Well...I don’t think I ever told you who my ex is, did I?”

Tooth stared, aghast. “You don’t mean--”

“Yes. I do. Pitch Black is my ex-boyfriend. And as you can see, I made a friend while I was with him.”

There was a long and painful silence. 

Then, the sound of whimpering filled the air as the Tooth Fairy began to seriously lose her mind, and Onyx grinned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing for Onyx is fun, hehehehe...also, damn you and your dramatics, Pitch. Because of you I had to abuse italics. AO3's HTML tags are glaring at me and it's all your fault.
> 
> Anyway...Epona and Rhiannon are both goddesses of horses. Epona is from Gallo-Roman religion, Rhiannon is from Welsh literature.
> 
> FYI, constructive criticism is welcome. Romance in stories is a genre that I'm still getting used to writing (I don't write romance much as a rule :/) and while there isn't a lot present in this story yet, I'd still love to hear any suggestions/criticisms/advice you may have for me to improve my writing.


End file.
